“We’ll see what Mr. Paine thinks,” went on Ted wrathfully. “I’m going to report to him.”
“You’ll report to me first,” declared Sam. “I’m in charge of this part of the show. Jack, let’s hear your story.”
Without stopping to remove his clown dress, Jack told exactly what had happened, and how the thing had occurred so quickly that it had been.
“Now it’s your turn,” said the head clown to Ted, and the latter made it appear that it was Jack’s fault. Some of the other performers, however, had seen what had taken place, and their version made it clear that it was an accident.
“You can report to Mr. Paine if you want to,” said Sam, when he had declared that he believed our hero, “but that’s all the good it will do. Jack stays.”
“Oh, he does, eh?” replied Ted. “We’ll see about that.”
But he did not go to Mr. Paine, for which Jack was grateful, for the boy thought perhaps, in spite of Sam Kyle being his friend, the manager might discharge him.
“Don’t mind Ted,” said the head clown as he took Jack aside and showed him how best to remove the grease paint from his face. “He thinks every performer is trying to spoil his act. He’s jealous, that’s all. But look out for him. He’ll try to make trouble for you, and he has an ugly temper. Keep away from that part of the ring where he is, and you’ll get along all right. I watched you to-night. You did pretty well. Keep at it.”
“Thanks,” replied Jack gratefully. “I think I can do a better act when I get my flying machine. Where do we show next?”
“At Haddington. That’s a big city. But you’d better hustle, now, and get to the train.”